


Roger Wilco

by churchkey



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: A Bit of Cock Worship, Anal sex (kind of), Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Facials, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, Morse Code, Mutual Masturbation, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25368283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchkey/pseuds/churchkey
Summary: He was still thinking about kissing him when he heard the taps. Lew’s finger tapping out a staccato beat against the pine, a cadence so random and frantic, it made Dick wonder if he’d maybe gotten some bad liquor and was having a terrible dream. But the longer he listened, the less random the pattern became.__Like these horndogs are going to let something as stupid as an actual, physical wall between them prevent them from getting it on.
Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99
Collections: Loose Lips Sink Ships Prompt Meme





	Roger Wilco

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Loose Lips Sink Ships Prompt Meme. Prompt: He looks his best with come all over his face. 
> 
> I feel like that says it all. Also, I hope you will forgive me for taking major liberties with this Mourmelon housing situation, basically inventing it out of whole cloth in service of the porn.

The ride out of Holland had been bumpy, cold, and interminable, but that hadn’t seemed to bother Nix much, who kept slumping over against Dick trying to catch a nap. Dick shoved him off the first few times but gave up after it became clear that Lew’s head was going to wind up back on his shoulder no matter how much respect Dick attempted to pay to decorum. They were all just running on fumes now anyway, so dirty and hungry and bone tired, who would care? Who would even notice? Nix would do the same for him. 

So it was that Dick rode off the line in the back of a Jeep with the sleeping body of his secret lover virtually in his lap. He let his eyes fall shut a few times too, trying to let the reality sink in that after two months of combat, they were finally getting a break. When they got to Mourmelon there would be hot showers and hot food and best of all, officers quarters with real beds and sheets and maybe even doors that locked. A momentary flash of guilt flared in his stomach when he thought of the comparative comfort his rank afforded him over the guys who’d worked just as hard and fought just as relentlessly, but it passed quickly and his thoughts went back to hot water and clean hair and the cool slide of his bare legs against soft cotton. And maybe another pair of legs too. 

He couldn’t think about sex when they were in the field. There was just no room for it. It was like he woke up each morning to a daily ration of grit and tenacity, and he couldn’t stop until he’d spent all of it, emptied everything into that day’s objective. And then he’d have to do it again the next day, and the one after that, tapping himself dry over and over. During the few hours of rest in between, it was enough just to have Nix beside him, that solid body propped against his as proof that he wasn’t doing any of it alone, even if it felt like it sometimes. 

Which is not to say that his body always obeyed this careful design. Not to say that they didn’t sometimes gratify those urges, but it was quick and rote, like routine maintenance. If you don’t change the oil, the engine breaks down. They hadn’t actually slept together since Pegasus, a fact Dick had buried deep in his conscious mind, but now that they were moving off the line, he let himself remember it. 

Scratching his fingertips through the thick hair on Lew's chest and wrapping his arms tight around his torso, their bare chests pressed together, his ribs expanding on every breath in the circle of Dick's arms. The way Nix dragged his palm slowly down Dick’s side, along the curve of his ass, gripping the back of his thigh and hooking it up over his hip, and then slipping into a groove with him, grinding against each other as the dark space between them became hot and slick with their sweat. Using their hands, their mouths. His aching jaw. The taste that lingered for days.

And kissing him. God, he missed kissing him. 

But first, a shower. Clean clothes. Something to eat. Now that they’d finally have some privacy again, the urgency of the foxhole had begun to wear off, leaving space for something a little more subtle and tender; dare he say it, romantic even. He looked down at Lew’s slack face. 

_I’m going to seduce you tonight_ , he thought, _and you have no idea _.__

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He rapped the top of Lew’s helmet with his knuckles, hard and fast. Lew bolted upright and swiveled his head. 

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“Are we there?” 

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Dick smiled, shook his head. “Not yet. Just seeing if you’re still alive.”

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Scowling, Nix slumped even more heavily against Dick and went back to sleep. 

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***

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“Is this a fucking joke?” 

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Though he wouldn’t use those exact words, Dick shared Harry’s sentiment. They were standing just inside their assigned barracks, which in no way resembled the luxury he’d been fantasizing about all along Hell’s Highway. He should have known; the entire division was here, as well as half of the 82nd. Their position as battalion staff was dimmed significantly in the glare of all that brass, and they were relegated to a barracks the Army had attempted to hastily convert into something suitable to their rank. 

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“Apparently it’s just for a couple of weeks,” Nix said. He’d gone straight to HQ to see if they were absolutely certain there wasn’t something a little more comfortable - _What about that building? Do we really need another field hospital?_ \- and had been rebuffed at every turn.

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“They’re fixing up more officers quarters,” he explained. “We just got here too soon.”

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Dick huffed a cynical laugh. “How rude of us.”

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“Could be worse,” Nix said with a little shrug. “They’ve got the guys doubled up in bunk beds. Wehrmacht posters still on the walls.”

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“I’d sleep with a goddamn bust of Hitler if it meant we didn’t have to share,” Harry said, and then seemed surprised by the vitriol in his own voice. “No offense.”

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“None taken,” Dick and Nix mumbled together as the three of them began exploring their new home. 

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The door opened into a common area with a table, a couple of armchairs, and a shabby little sofa. Beyond that, the space had been divided into six rooms, though Dick wasn’t sure he’d call them that. Three on each side with a narrow corridor down the middle, they were separated by whitewashed pine panels that began a couple feet off the floor and ended at the support beams running the width of the building below the vaulted ceilings. As far as privacy went, the rooms were more like spacious toilet stalls. He realized with a pang of disappointment that everyone would be able to hear everything. 

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A few guys from 3rd Battalion staff had arrived before them and already taken up residence on the right side. Nix walked into the front room on the left and dropped his duffel unceremoniously on the plank floor. “I guess I’ll take this one.” 

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It made sense. That way he wouldn’t have as far to stumble when he came back walking on his knees. Harry quickly claimed the room on the far left, which put Dick in the middle. The room itself was nothing he was going to complain about after all those nights sleeping on the wet ground; it was just that horrible illusion of privacy, mocking his very real need to be alone with Nix. 

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He dropped down on the bed and knocked his knuckles lightly against the wall. It was so thin he could put his fist through it without much effort, and he had a sudden crazy idea that that’s what they could do, just punch a hole in the wall and - 

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He shook the thought away. They’d managed it before. They would manage it here too. But short of getting everyone blind drunk or driving them ten miles out of camp and dropping them in a vineyard to walk back, he couldn’t really see how.

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***

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They’d gone their separate ways after supper, Harry and Nix to HQ to find a poker table or song circle or whatever they got up to when they drank together. Dick walked the parade ground for a while, checked in with the company COs, and then made his way back to the barracks to write a few letters and try not to think about sex. 

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He was only marginally successful. The 3rd Battalion guys were talking loudly about the girls they’d had back home and comparing what they’d heard about the prostitutes in Paris to the ones whose company they’d enjoyed in London. Titties this and pussy that, which didn’t do much for Dick, thank god, but any mention of pricks or rubbers or shooting a load big enough to fill a jerry can had the inevitable effect of kindling a warm little glow between his legs. 

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The spring hinges of the barracks door whined as the door opened and then closed again with a loud crack. The steps shuffling across the floor were far too spry to be Nix’s, and Dick found himself cursing Harry. Why the hell hadn’t he just brought him back with him? Now he’d be useless in the morning and Dick would wind up organizing drills and writing AARs by himself. But when he realized that his annoyance was motivated not by concern for Lew’s fitness to serve but by his own overriding need to get off, he walked back from that thought, remembered to be charitable. Harry was no more responsible for his aching balls than he was for how much booze Nix poured down his throat. Both were out of his hands. 

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Harry rapped on his door and pushed it open without waiting for Dick to respond. 

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“Hey, you still up? What time tomorrow?”

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Dick capped his pen and began organizing his stationary into neat piles. “0700.” He paused and just looked at Harry a moment, reluctant to continue. But Harry knew. 

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“He’s fine,” he said, like a parent trying to placate an anxious child. “No worse than usual. Probably back soon, he’s almost out of cash.” A tipsy grin stretched across his face. “I took fifty bucks off him.” 

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Dick sighed. “Well, thanks for doing your part, I guess.” 

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Harry gave him a lazy salute and left, letting the door smack shut behind him. 

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Dick undressed to his shorts, carefully folding his shirt and trousers and laying them on the chair. He opened his footlocker and found his Bible, thinking that maybe some ascetic wisdom of Christ might settle him down and offer some perspective, consider the lilies and that sort of thing. He opened to a random page and began reading, but the passage sounded too familiar, all that “On my bed at night I sought the one I love” and “I rose up and opened for my beloved”. He felt his cock begin to stir again and he snapped the book shut. Jesus, he had to be about the only guy in the world who got aroused reading the Bible. Half-hard and yearning desperately for his beloved, Dick put out his light and tried to go to sleep. 

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***

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Some time later he awoke to the sound of boots lumbering across the floorboards and Nix singing to himself. It took a moment for Dick to recognize the tune because he had the words all mixed up, so it went something like “wild again… riled again… dah dee dah trousers that cling to him…” 

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He breathed a little laugh and turned onto his side, facing the wall. On the other side of it, the bedsprings groaned as Nix dropped down hard onto the mattress. Dick heard one boot fall to the floor with a hollow thud, followed by the other, and then a rustle of cotton, the snap of his suspenders. He could see all of it so easily, Nix stripping clumsily, leaving his clothes where they fell. 

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He heard an audible sigh as Lew stretched out on the bed and figured the snoring would commence within a minute. But Nix was quiet tonight and Dick was wide awake now. His fingertips traced an aimless design into the wall and he wished for everything that he could make it just disappear. 

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_“Neat trick,”_ he could hear Nix say. _"Where’d you pick that up?”_ And then they’d scoot closer together, until their bodies were touching from chest to toes, and Dick would lay his palm on Lew’s stubbled jaw and kiss every trace of that smug composure right out of his arrogant mouth.

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He was still thinking about kissing him when he heard the taps. Lew’s finger tapping out a staccato beat against the pine, a cadence so random and frantic, it made Dick wonder if he’d maybe gotten some bad liquor and was having a terrible dream. But the longer he listened, the less random the pattern became. He began to hear the sounds not as the arbitrary taps of a fingertip against a wall but as dits and dahs, and all his training came back to him. 

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-.. .. -.-. -.- / -.. .. -.-. -.- / -.. .. -.-. -.-

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_D-I-C-K/ D-I-C-K/ D-I-C-K_

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He thought for a moment to make sure he had it, and then tapped back. 

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_L-E-W_

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_A-W-A-K-E_ , Nix replied. 

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_Well obviously_ , Dick thought, but then realized he was probably asking a question. The answer to which was also obvious, but that was Nix after a few. 

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_Y,_ he responded. 

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Nix’s reply was too fast for Dick to catch, and he tapped _R-P-T_ for ‘repeat’. He was back at OCS now, practicing late into the night, and Lew still showing him up in class the next day. Dick wondered briefly if his uncanny facility with Morse Code was why he’d been picked for Battalion staff and Dick hadn’t. 

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_W-A-N-T / Y-O-U_

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Dick caught it that time. He shifted on the mattress, laying his cheek in the crook of his bent arm. He could pass it off as the senseless ramblings of a drunk man and he could respond to them in the usual manner, calmly guiding his every impulse toward calling it a night, _just sleep it off Nix, I’ll talk to you in the morning._ How many times had he said that instead of what he’d really wanted to say, which was _talk to me, tell me who you are and who I am and what we’re doing here, tell me everything you know._

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But in the darkness that covered them like a shroud, Dick sensed the wall separating them changing form, becoming a door. Beyond it beckoned a different sort of freedom. Its song was sweet and new, but it was old too, and Dick just closed his eyes and listened for a moment before answering its call.

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_W-A-N-T / Y-O-U / T-O-O_

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_C-O-M-E / H-E-R-E_ , came the quick reply. 

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He could hear Nix breathing, sucking the air in loudly, his exhales heavy and fraught. He wanted to; Christ, he wanted it so bad. But above the sound of Lew’s breaths he could hear the other men breathing, snoring, turning in their bunks. His mind went back a few hours to all those dreamy thoughts about having Lew naked again, all to himself again, and what a nice distraction it had been from the incessant bumping of his ass against the hard seat of the Jeep. His heart sunk a little in his chest as he tapped out his response. 

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_T-O-O / L-O-U-D_

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The mattress whined and Dick imagined Lew burrowing into it, bunching up the pillow and hugging it close as he assumed a position he would not break until morning. He did not expect him to reply, but a moment later the tapping started back up again. 

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_H-A-R-D / O-N_

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Dick smirked. 

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_C-A-N-T / H-E-L-P_ , he tapped back. 

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But he could, he realized, as he felt a rush of warmth spreading through his groin, his shorts becoming tight as his cock swelled inside of them.

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_L-E-W_

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_D-I-C-K_

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He rocked his hips in a shallow thrust toward the wall and back, just testing to see how much noise it would make. He supposed it would be no secret to someone listening very intently, but they’d all learned early on about selective hearing and its place in the unwritten code of honor. He took a long breath, his finger hovering just centimeters from the wall. A deviant grin stretched slowly across his face as he began to tap against the wood. 

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_T-O-U-C-H / I-T_

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_R-W-C _, Lew replied. Roger. Wilco. The silence that followed emboldened Dick, as he pictured him lying there with his shorts open and tugged down around his hips, fist pumping up and down on his prick, that noble brow gone all scrunched and needy. Thinking about him.__

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_H-A-R-D / F-O-R / M-E_ , Dick tapped as he slid his other hand up his thigh and lay his palm flat over his length for a moment, just holding it there and rocking his hips up against the pressure. 

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_S-O / H-A-R-D_

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_G-O-O-D_

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Did Nix feel it too, he wondered, that hot flare in his chest, the strange thrill he got out of praising him? It summoned too many images to focus on just one; Nix in his lap, Nix on his knees, resting his cheek against Dick’s thigh and looking up into his face with eyes full of supplication, playing Dick as hard as Dick would play him, _Sir, yes sir..._

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_Y-O-U / T-O-O_ , came the tapping again. 

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_Y,_ Dick replied. 

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He unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down his thighs, kicking them to the floor. With his left leg bent at the knee, he propped his foot against the bed, fully aware of the lewd picture he made, like those photos they used to have to confiscate from the guys’ footlockers. He wanted Nix to see him like this, naked, thighs spread wide, touching himself in languid strokes. He wanted him to see the flush rising in his chest and up his neck and know exactly what it did to him and what it looked like, the power of all that desire always stuffed so tightly under cotton twill. _This is what wanting you looks like._

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_J-A-C-K / Y-O-U_ , Nix tapped. 

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_Y_

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Dick was back in the foxhole again, those nights when they didn’t have to say a word to know what the other was thinking. He was never quite sure what it was that gave him away. How he’d keep shifting positions, couldn’t seem to get comfortable, maybe. The impatience in his sighs. Somehow Nix always knew what Dick needed when he needed that. 

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Eventually he’d send up the signal - a steady hand on Dick’s thigh. Dick would listen carefully for footsteps or voices and then nine times out of ten, unbutton his trousers. Nix would slip his hand in and jerk him off, sometimes keeping his eyes closed like he was doing it in his sleep. They were both so wet and tired, wishing they could be anywhere else in the world, but for a little while that foxhole was paradise. Lew’s fist so fast and precise, Dick giving up everything to him for a few blissful minutes, all that order and control and authority lifted briefly from his weary shoulders as Lew touched him, gave him the only thing he needed in that moment, and that moment was eternity stretched out like an ocean, or it felt like it anyway, until everything went tight and he was coming, his muscles relaxing a little more with each pulse. 

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Sometimes Dick would reciprocate. Often Nix would just turn to his side and fall back to sleep, or head out to check OPs. And it would fold Dick in its gentle arms like an angel, those few hours of complete and perfect peace. 

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Through the wall he could hear Lew’s sighs becoming louder, the mattress squeaking to the rhythm of his hand on his cock. He thought of that night in Nix’s room at Schoonderlogt, feeling like a fighter in some secret contest he’d never even signed up for, but if he was in it anyway, goddammit he was going to win. Again, he tapped a message to the wall. 

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_S-U-C-K / Y-O-U_

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_Y_

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They’d had time to spend, which had always been a problem with them. More often than not they’d waste it arguing over something they agreed on, or reverting to the euphemism of their early days, pregnant with meaning but going nowhere. 

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That night felt different. They both wanted something but neither wanted to tip his hand, so they stalked around each other like cats for a while, going head to head on innuendo and double entendres. Dick was pretty confident that the sex was a fait accompli; beyond that, he didn’t really concern himself with particulars. But he liked the dance. He liked pretending that there was some sort of negotiation going on, that they each had to be willing to give up something they wanted in exchange for something they wanted more. And the terms they arrived at always managed to take him by surprise. That was Nix, always putting something new on the table. 

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“But you _did_ throw piss in my face.”

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He sat down on the ledge of the bed alcove and leaned back against its frame, smoking patiently as he waited for Dick’s response to his gambit. 

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The corner of Dick’s mouth lifted in a half-smirk. He stood on the other side of the room, leaning his hip against the window sill. 

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“That was an accident.”

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“Says you. Still.” Lew dropped his head to the side as though carefully deliberating their positions and took another drag off his cigarette. “It seems only fair.”

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Dick took a few slow steps across the room until he was standing so close to Lew that their knees touched. He lowered himself to his knees and began sliding his palms up Lew’s thighs. 

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“What’s that?” 

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Nix traced his fingertips delicately along Dick’s hairline, down his jaw, under his bottom lip, finally stopping at his chin. His lips twitched with the faintest hint of uncertainty before he spoke. 

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“You let me come on yours.”

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Dick couldn’t recall how he'd replied, if he’d stammered out a ‘yes, okay’ or tried to match the play with a move of his own. What he did remember was going instantly hard, and scrambling to help Lew get his pants open, which took twice as long with that damn cigarette between his fingers. He remembered Lew’s prick getting caught up in the fly of his shorts and tearing a nice gash down the front of them trying to get it loose. He remembered taking that moment to admire it, so firm and lusty, lunging out at him from the thick patch of dark hair between Lew’s thighs. And then parting his lips and taking him in, feeling him swell and stiffen against his tongue. 

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Lew kept his hand on the back of his neck the whole time, not really guiding him, just holding it there like an anchor. Spit dribbled from Dick’s lips and pooled around the base of his shaft, shining wet in the dim yellow glow of the lantern. He listened to Lew’s breathing become shaky and irregular, to his husky exhales and soft moans, words clipped to senseless syllables. Lew slid his boot across the floor between Dick’s knees, and he pressed against it, grinding his aching cock against Lew’s shin, chasing any shadow of relief. He knew he wouldn’t get it fully until later but he’d learned long ago that when Nix offered something, he should take it. 

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His jaw was straining against the pressure, but he kept at it, kept sucking him in a little deeper each time, fighting his gag reflex as he felt Lew’s head bump against the back of his throat. Let them bury him under a mountain of reports, he thought, let them punch out Taps for him on his typewriter. He had something they could never take away and it tasted humid and musky and it looked like the knob of bone moving under the skin of his hip and it sounded like his breathy, ragged voice asking Dick to stop, he was close now. 

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Nix stood and began bringing himself off in quick, practiced strokes. Dick sat back on his heels. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, opened his mouth as though to receive a sacrament. He felt Lew’s fingers in his hair and heard him make a noise that was something between groaning and choking. A moment of perfect stillness. Then Lew’s come hitting his face, dripping down his cheeks, spattering his lips. Licking them off, that salty, bitter tang on his tongue as Lew wiped his thumb over his eyelid, his whispered disbelief sounding like it pained him a little, but also a little like prayer. 

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“Dear _god_ , you are gorgeous.”

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Dick could hear that voice still. It echoed in his head as he stroked himself faster now. His balls began to tighten and throb and he cupped them in his other hand, tugging gently as he felt the pressure begin to build and spread slowly from the root of his spine through his groin and down his legs. Nix was still there with him too, for now, so close Dick could hear the hitch in his breath, could almost see the line of his profile silhouetted against the dark, the tension in his face, the sharp line of his chin as he dropped his head back against the pillow. He was so caught up in this image of Lew about to come that he wasn’t paying any attention to the sound of him tapping out another message.

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His arm went still and he gripped the base of his cock in an effort to make it last. 

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_R-P-T_

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Nix tapped it out again, exaggeratedly slow, so there was no way Dick could miss it. 

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_F-U-C-K / M-E_

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That… they had no precedent for that. He began stroking his cock again, slowly at first. 

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_Y_

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The films in his head faded and he was left to invent a new fantasy out of nothing but desire and conjecture. But it was easier than he might have guessed. He closed his eyes and there he was, his naked back pressed to Dick’s chest, rutting back against him as Dick thrust in and out, pressing him to the wall. He saw himself hook his arm under Lew’s knee and pull it up toward his shoulder, pushing down to spread him further open, and fucking him deeper - 

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_H-A-R-D-E-R_

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_Y_

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\- his fist around his prick becoming the tight, slick hole of Lew’s ass, his hips rocking in violent jerks as he fucked his hand, so close to the wall that his knuckles brushed against the pine as he stroked himself, so fast his forearm burned. Sliding his fingers higher to touch the place on the underside of his shaft just below the head, that magic little spot that always - 

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_C-O-M-E_

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\- the sudden explosion of electric buzzing heat, his whole body clenched up so tight it was like he’d been shocked, and then the release, the glorious pulses of come surging up through his cock and shooting out in vulgar arcs as the soft, languid waves began to wash over the rest of him. 

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He just lay there for a while trying to catch his breath. It was a full minute before he opened his eyes again, saw the abstract splatter of his come dripping down the wall. He sighed, long and heavy, and wondered if Nix was still awake. Dick imagined him lying on his side in a mirror of his own position, just a few inches separating them. He was so close; it was hardly possible to him in his muddled, post-orgasm state that they couldn’t just drape their arms around each other’s waists and fall asleep together. 

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He was very close to falling asleep despite this when he heard the tapping again. 

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_K-I-S-S / Y-O-U_

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And that was Nix too. It wasn’t often and it never lasted long, but sometimes he'd say something like that and it felt like some sweet acid eating away at the edges of his heart. It would be the ruin of him someday, of that much Dick was certain.

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He was about to tap a message back when a strange conviction took over him. They’d tried to separate them, to put a literal wall between them and they’d found a way through it. Nothing was going to deny him what he’d wanted all along.

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He pulled his shorts back on and stepped lightly across the room. He opened the door slowly so it wouldn’t creak and let it close softly, doing the same with the next door. Then he was creeping across the floor of Nix’s room, who was watching from the bed with an inscrutable smile on his face. 

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Gently, Dick lowered himself to his knees. His gaze raked over Lew’s body, along his bare legs and the patch of hair sprouting from the neck of his undershirt, his shoulders, hard and round as baseballs, the puddle of semen just below his navel, and his lovely prick, gone soft and resting against his belly. Nix’s smile grew wider, spreading across his whole face to touch his cheeks and eyes and that place at the corners of his eyes that Dick had studied in profile for more than two years now. Without a word, he leaned forward and kissed him, sighing softly against his mouth. 

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Whiskey, smoke, and Wrigley’s. Fifty years from now, if he made it through the war first, he knew that he could close his eyes and still recall that taste. Whiskey, smoke and Wrigley’s. Nix. It was the taste of hope in the face of constant death and incalculable loss and trauma, of refusing to give up even when the game seemed rigged against them. And it was the taste of love, stark and beautiful as the dark spikes of his soft hair fanned out against the pillow. 

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“Night,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of Lew’s ear. 

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“Night, handsome,” he whispered back.

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As quietly as he’d come, Dick tiptoed back to his room. He lay back down in bed, tapped out one last message, and went to sleep.

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End file.
